The Education of Bet Read Online Free PDF Page A

universe for taking my mother, anger over the unfairness of pretty much everything—was briefly released from my body with the force of that kick.
    "You are good at this!" Will said, chasing after the ball, which had shot right past him. "I think maybe you have played this game before!"
    "No!" I laughed, surprised at the sound of laughter coming out of my body, surprised at how good and joyful I suddenly felt. "But I think I like it!"
    Will and I became friends that day.
    For the next six years, we played together as friends—equals, even—with Paul Gardener often observing us from his study window or, on nice days, from the fieldstone patio out back.
    Then, when I was ten, one of Victoria Gardener's relatives came to visit, as they did from time to time in order to check on Will's progress. She sat beside the master of the house on the patio in her wide-brimmed hat, the two of them sipping lemonade as Will and I played a spirited game of croquet under the hot summer sun. I never could figure out if she spoke at a near shout because she was hard of hearing or because she wanted to be overheard. Whatever the case, her words reached us with ease.
    "I understand, Paul, your having permitted the children to play with each other when they were younger. And it is to your Christian credit that you were kind enough to take in that wretched child rather than let her go to the workhouse. But do you not realize how ...
wrong
it is to allow them to continue so casually in one another's company?"
    If she
was
hard of hearing, the old man was not of a mind to accommodate her infirmity, because when he spoke—and I was sure he did, for I saw his lips move—it was impossible to hear what he said.
    "No,
you
don't understand," the woman said. "Yes, Victoria was kind enough to let the maid continue in service, but you must realize, she never intended for the
maid's child
to be raised with her
son.
"
    More silent words from the old man.
    "Surely you can see how ...
unseemly
this all is," the woman went on, growing more heated by the moment. "What's more, you are raising unrealistic expectations in that girl. Treat her like an equal, like one of the family, and she will grow up believing that one day a life like this could be hers. Now I ask you: Can you imagine any young man of Will's stature
ever
considering marrying a girl who was a maid's bastard? Really, Paul, you do that girl no favors."
    To this, the master of the house said nothing.
    ***
    It was decided that since Will was ten, he would be sent away to school. He would still visit during semester breaks and over the summer, but he really was old enough to go now, his education paramount.
    As for me, after six years of blissful playing, I was now to assume more responsibilities around Grangefield Hall. No, I was not to be moved to the servants' quarters, although I believe some of them felt I should be, but it was expected that I would take on chores: I would do mending, I would help out when any of the other servants was sick, I would polish the silver—I had made the mistake of admitting a proficiency at that task—and, of course, I would read to the master whenever asked.
    My fortunes and Will's had been intertwined for six years, but now our lives diverged: he was to receive a proper education, while I was to assume a life somewhere between resident and servant.
    Just as my bedroom was located on a floor between the entitled inhabitants of the house below me and the servants above, I lived between worlds, not quite family, not quite servant, neither fish nor fowl.
    I was grateful to Paul Gardener, whom I always addressed as sir, never Mr. Gardener, and whom I always thought of by his full name or as the old man or the master of the house or simply the master. I even loved him a little. If not for him and the generosity he had shown me, I would have been sent to the workhouse.
    But Paul Gardener was not my family, and neither was Will.
    And Grangefield Hall was not my